


The Waters Deep

by PAW_07



Series: Tales of Arcadia [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: A House Divided AU, Episode: s3e10 A House Divided, F/M, Magic, Minor Body Horror, One Shot, Romance, Transformation, Trolls, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAW_07/pseuds/PAW_07
Summary: “Jim!” cried Claire instinctively as she jumped into those dark waters in order to pull him out. And yet, even though it was supposed to be nothing more than a bathtub, she seemed to sink forever into those murky depths.





	The Waters Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Art by Hiddenwritersspirit : [Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/hiddenwriterspirit/art/Jlaire-Week-Day-7-Event-Horizon-806745356)

...

And so, the waters grew deeper and deeper still.

The light faded like the coming night, a coldness setting in.

And yet I would dive into these waters, over and over again.

If only … to be with him.

…

It turned the water in the tub black. Blacker than a starless night. It was a darkness he would know for the rest of his life if he did this.

There would be no going back.

Jim took in a deep breath, his breathing threatening to catch. Instead of backing away from those dark waters, he instead took his amulet in hand and called his armor forth. He seemed to hang in the air longer than usual when he transformed, blue light surrounding him like an old friend. When his feet finally hit the floor, there was a thud. He felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. He felt locked still and yet … he had to go forward. He had to be the hero the world needed.

There would be no going back.

In the back of his mind, a thousand thoughts mixed together. The noise in his head was so loud part of him wondered if he was imaging the pounding on the bathroom door, the cries of his loved ones stating that he wasn’t alone.

He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Then, he stepped into those deep waters, armor and all.

There would be no going back.

…

“Jim are you in there?! Jim what’s happening please let us in. are you okay?

“Jimbo?! Come on, Jimbo we are a team!”

“Jim! Jim! Jim!”

“Young Atlas, you are not alone. Don’t do this. Open the door.”

Everyone’s cries were mixing together as they pleaded at the bathroom door. Claire could feel herself shaking and her throat tightening. It was as if every second that door remained closed, more and more oxygen was being pulled from her. It was like she was being drowned on land.

Merlin’s words had been cryptic, the house had been destroyed … and she was terrified that Jim was leaving her forever.

Running her hands through her hair, her lungs feeling more and more oxygen-deprived, Claire’s fingers caught on her hairclip. And then an idea struck her.

“Let me through,” she begged as she pushed herself to the front, pulling her hairclip free and kneeing before the door handle. She wouldn’t consider herself a very good cat burglar, but she had picked a lock before. Call it extra credit.

Fiddling with the lock, telling herself that every second counted, the lock clicked open right before Strickler decided to ram the door in. Claire stumbled in first … just in time to see Jim’s head sink below the surface of those dark waters.

She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling that if she didn’t do something right now … she may never see him again. And so, she acted.

“Jim!” cried Claire instinctively as she jumped into those dark waters in order to pull him out. And yet, even though it was supposed to be nothing more than a bathtub, she seemed to sink forever into those murky depths. It was then that she saw him, the only light before her in an endless expanse of black. She immediately reached out her hand trying to grasp him, to save him as he would save her. And yet, the moment she grasped his limp hand … the light completely faded from above. There was nothing but the darkness all around them now, the cold creeping in. The only light available came from Jim’s armor. And she, like Jim already was, could feel her consciousness fading.

The darkness was taking her.

Pulling Jim close, curling around him as she buried her head in his neck, a part of Claire accepted this as the last bubbles of oxygen escaped her.

At least they’d go together.

…

The air tasted wrong and yet she was surrounded by a scent that she instinctively knew and trusted. She curled in closer to it, seeking comfort from it. She was pulled from her half-consciousness though when a grinding noise filled her ears. Her _oh-so-sensitive_ ears. It sounded like stone grinding against metal.

Her eyes blinking open, Claire immediately noticed that she was in the woods. Her eyes stung and her ears ached as the singing of shifting leaves and night-insects assaulted her. Everything _hurt_. Even her jaw ached.

Whimpering, she burrowed closer to the scent she trusted, the boy she trusted and that smelled like her. The boy who wasn’t quite a boy anymore.

At that realization, her eyes snapped back open as the last few hours rushed back to her. Jim in the tub. Dark waters. Reaching for him. The loss of the light.

“Jim!” suddenly cried Claire as she sat up, vertigo threatening to send her back down onto the forest floor.

Not that she gave her body’s weakness any attention as she stared at the armored boy before her, because _boy_ didn’t quite fit anymore. No, no. He wasn’t a boy. He was blue and stone, sweeping black horns curling around his face as if he was a troll. Immediately, Claire moved her hand forward so that she could touch him but stalled.

Her hand was wrong.

She was missing a finger … and her nails were black … and her skin was purple!

“Oh, no, no, no,” whimpered Claire to herself as she immediately looked at her arms then at her stretched and shredding clothes on her legs and torso. Her hands immediately went to her face and she could feel the touch, but her skin was strange and hard like stone. She also noticed sharp teeth in her mouth. The last thing she felt was a pair of horns erupting from her hair. There were four of them in total. A small set and then a much larger set that swept back into dull points.

She felt like hyperventilating or having a complete meltdown. What had that crazy, old wizard done to her … done to them?

Right when Claire was debating finding a tree to cry silently behind so Jim wouldn’t see her breakdown, Jim stirred. His eyes fluttered open just in time to see Claire struggling to get to her feet, to hide. Immediately, despite the horns and skin and claws, he knew it was her and reached out to grasp her wrist.

“Claire, what’s wrong?” he said drowsily, his mind disoriented even though every available sense was focus directly at her. It was as if he could smell her fear and he knew tears were about to fall. 

“W-what happened? Where are we?” quickly asked Jim, pulling her back down to crouch beside him … only to really see his hands. One was _blue_. He was about to have a slight meltdown when a sniffle drew all his attention back to Claire. He could already see the wet glistening in her eyes.

“We’re stuck like this? Aren’t we Jim?” asked Claire, feeling a hiccup forming in her throat and tears in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, tried to hold it together, but the moment Jim gave her a sad smile, the dam burst, and tears started to fall down her cheeks in a silent cascade.

Jim sat there a moment, trying to find the right words to comfort his girlfriend, but nothing but the truth came forward, “I’m sorry, Claire. Merlin said that there was no going back. We’re … stuck like this.”

A full sob escaped the girl and Jim quickly reached a hand forward and cupped her cheek. Claire, thankfully, leaned into the touch and cupped his hand with hers, kissing the palm of his hand.

“If it’s any consolation,” added Jim as he leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, “I think you’re beautiful like this. Purple was always your color.”

Despite herself, Claire laugh-sobbed and rubbed her stone forehead against his, the action feeling right in this form. She forced a smiled and added with a sobbing laugh, “And blue is your color. Sideburns look good on you.”

A rumbling noise escaped Jim’s throat like a laugh and for a while they sat there in the small clearing doing nothing but existing together, fireflies dancing in the damp grass. It seemed like they were stuck together forever … and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Though I think she had happier intentions, Hiddenwritersspirits pic (above) is what made me think of this. 
> 
> And quite honestly, this is how I wish it would have ended. I mean, I’m totally okay with Jim getting turned into a troll. I love it. It’s full of angst. What worries me is Claire. Is she a witch now? Will she age slower like Merlin and Morgana or will Jim outlive her? Because if it’s the latter, it can bite me. Thus, Troll-Claire. 
> 
> Plus, I just love the mental image of troll her. Furthermore, if we follow the theme set down by Romeo and Juliet, they are supposed to die (or in this case transform) together.


End file.
